The Chosen Ones of the Divines
by DaggerOfEbony14
Summary: The King is not returning. Emrys loses hope. The Divines decide that the Earth no longer needs Emrys or the king, and sends them to a place that is in the midst of great turmoil. Skyrim. But what will happen when they don't remember anything from their past lives and have to find someway to realize their places? Before it is too late? Reincarnation fic. Freylin, Arwen.
1. Chapter 1- Prologue

So, I recently started watching merlin and I have been playing skyrim since it came out and oblivion before that. And while watching it, I couldn't help but notice the similarities between Merlin's dragon lord powers and the dovakiin's own powers. Then I got the dragon born DLC and the connection was even more apparent!

So this story will follow Merlin as he tries to find a new life and who he really is in the land of Skyrim. And figure out why his destiny is so great.

And I know that I am creating a new category of stories here, and no one really ever looks at the categories with one fic. So I am aware that I might just be talking to myself for a while.

Disclaimer: just to let you guys know now, I'm probobly going to be terrible at remembering to put this in every chapter, so this will just be a big blanket disclaimer for the whole fic. I don't own Merlin

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Lightning flashed across the sky, swiftly followed by a thunderclap that shook the foundations of the cottage.

He had waited over a thousand years, but the Once and Future king still didn't rise again. He himself had lived, but the other half on his proverbial coin never was seen again on the earth. Their lives had faded from memories, to stories, then legend and onto myth. All of his work seemed for naught, and he was done with waiting.

He thought many times over the years that he would see his old friend again, but it was useless he realized. The crusades, and religious upheavals and even a couple world wars were not deemed worthy enough to the ancient powers of the old religion to see Arthur rise again.

Nearly 15 centuries of waiting for a hope that never came or will come was grating on Merlin. As he was sitting there in an old cottage, with a great storm whipping around the place, trying so hard to knock the small structure over, he lost hope.

"That's it," he said to himself. "I'm done. He's never coming."

He got up out of the ragged and stained armchair. He snuffed out the candle that he had going in his lantern next to the chair. He could have got wiring in the house, but it was an inconvenience, and electricity didn't react well with large amounts of magic. And Merlin was still living in the past.

He grabbed his candle holder and stuck a new candle in it. He stuck up the wick and waved a hand delicately over it, whispering "_Forbearnan_". A little flame sparked into life on the wick and Merlin carried it over to the other side of the small room and set in on his nightstand. He got into bed and lay there thinking for a while.

He had stayed near the lake, hoping that if Arthur did rise again that it would be here, where he laid him to rest all those years ago. But now it was as if someone had ripped a cloth that was hanging over Merlin's eyes that last millennia, off. He could see now that there was no hope to be held and that there was nothing more he could do. Tomorrow he would pack up his things and head to another part of the world do that traveling he had always wanted to do. Just aimlessly drift until time ended for him. He fell asleep with these thoughts tumbling in his mind.

He did not know that his new adventures with Arthur were just beginning.

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The image of Merlin sleeping faded from the middle of the council room of the Nine Divines. they had called n emergency meeting to decide the fate of Merlin or as he is better known by the divines, Emrys.

The Divines had chosen Emrys as their champion all those years ago on earth, but his other half refused to rise and Emrys was losing hope, and starting to fade. He would not last much longer on Earth, so they had to decide what to do with him and whether or not he would stay on the earth any longer. His immortality was tied to his purpose and destiny, but it seems that destiny had already moved on. Earth did not need Emrys or the King anymore.

So they needed to find a new world for their champions.

The divines send Emrys and The Once and Future King wherever they are needed, so they can build a world that can carry on after them. They of course never knew of their past lives, but as the Divines spent more and more time on them, their power had been leaking into the lost souls. They have been hesitant to send them anywhere else in the last millennia because Emrys has become powerful.

But it has become necessary. Another place now needs them. Tamriel.

Tamriel is a little country in another alternate universe of Earth. They have sent Emrys and His King there in the past, the most recent as Martin Septim and The Hero of Kvatch, but it seems that the tumult country needs them again.

War had broken out among the people of Skyrim years ago, and a treaty was signed banning the worship of Talos throughout the land to end the Great War. But, the native Nords of Skyrim have been the most devoted worshipers of Talos, and would not give up that easily. The Jarl of Windhelm, Ulfric Stormcloak, creates the Stormcloak faction and threatens war on the empire unless they do something about the treaty. Finally, Ulfric takes it a step and kills The High King Torygg, in a duel, using the gift of the voice to shout him apart.

The Empire declares war on the Stormcloaks, and the Civil War in Skyrim is started.

Now, it seems, Skyrim needs to find a way to end the war and save Skyrim.

Akatosh sits on his throne, rubbing his chin. As the chief deity, it falls to him to make the final decision. The fate of a world rests in the balance.

"I shall welcome council. This not a decision to make lightly," he says.  
He glances to the god seated directly to his right. Arkay would be the one to listen to this time. The god sees Akatosh looking at him and sighs.

"It would seem that Tamriel needs help again. It may be risky, but I am afraid I see no other choice in the matter."

All of the gods nod to themselves, as to have some internal agreement with his statement. All that is but Talos.

Akatosh knew that the war in Skyrim had had an effect on all of them, but Talos the most. He was always one of the most regal and mighty of the gods, but this war has taken a large toll on him. Akatosh fears that he may never recover from the state that he is currently in.

"Talos," he says. "I need to know what you think about sending The King and Emrys. It is basically your domain."

Talos looked up from the piece of floor that he was staring at and met eyes with Akatosh. He seemed worn and tired. Exhausted. He opened his mouth and closed it several times before settling on something to say.

"I agree with sending them. Skyrim needs the help, but there are other factors to take into consideration." He looked to continue, but paused, and looked to Akatosh for confirmation.

Akatosh nodded his head, "Please brother, tell us what is plaguing your mind."

"As you all know, the war has taken a toll on me and my health. I am afraid; I don't think I can continue."

There was a collective gasp from the other seven gods, and even Akatosh himself was a little surprised.

"How can you say such a thing?" Mara whispered in horror.

"Well, we all knew when I was first granted Godhood that my mortal soul was never meant to house such power. It will destroy me eventually, and painfully. I would rather go out this way, physically painless, then having to endure all of the torment. So, my one condition of this, is that Emrys joins the Empire, and turns the tide of the civil war to them."

All of the gods still had looks of surprise on their faces, but seemed to accept the fate of their friend.

Akatosh was about to say the words, when another spoke up.

"Akatosh," said Julianos. "You know of what is going to happen in skyrim at this time, right?"

Akatosh was not remembering what was going to come to pass, as were the other gods.

"Please divulge this information, brother."

"This is the year that Alduin was sent to by the three warriors of old with the elder scroll."

Murmurings broke out, which soon escalated to frantic conversations. Akatosh slammed his staff on the ground, calling for silence. The room fell quiet as Akatosh gathered his thoughts.

"This should not be a problem. In fact it may help more then it could hinder our young champions."

"How can that be so?" asked Stenndar.

"Emrys was granted the honor of becoming a Dragonlord. Now, in Skyrim, this would translate to being Dragonborn, or Dovahkiin."

"He will be even more powerful than before. There will nothing that can stop him," commented Dibella.

"That way he can save Skyrim from Alduin. And truly turn the tide of war, and help the King back on the throne," said Talos. "And that is just what the people need. Someone to rely on."

"So it is decided then. Emrys and his King will be sent to Skyrim, and stay there, helping to heal the land, and save it."

"And as usual, they will not remember anything of what has happened to their souls in the past, right?" inquired Zenithar.

Akatosh looked to Arkay for the answer. As the god of life's cycle, he is the main force in the rebirth of the champions.

Arkay thought for a while, and came up with an answer. "The young Emrys has been growing in power, as has the king. It is possible they could start remembering, or recognizing others, but I think if we send them anywhere else, it could become too dangerous for us and them. So, I ask that this will be the last place for Emrys and the King."

All of the gods agreed and it was said. "Skyrim will be the final resting place for Emrys and the King. Arkay, if you will do the honors," said Akatosh.

The god nodded and got up off of his throne, and walked to the center of the semi-circle of thrones. He kneeled and raised his arms, closing his eyes as he did so. He sat like that for some time before his eyes flew open and his head whipped back, shouting the words to the sky.

"_Wæter, eorthe, lyft, bryne! hiersumie me! Ic àgiefe rices ræran sáwla áhelpan æfolc. Bebeode pe arisan yeldo!_"

A great light erupted from the gods body and flew towards the floor of the room. Arkay stood and brushed his robe off, saying, "It is done."

_Good luck Emrys and the King_, thought Akatosh.

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I'm sorry if the grammar was a little off for the old English. Not really an expert. I just took the most of it from spells that were used in the show. Then the rest was looked up on a online dictionary, so it might not totally reliable, but, oh well.

So what did you think? Was it good? Okay? If you did read, please say something! It will be much appreciated

-Ebony


	2. Chapter 2- Unbound part 1

Chapter 1- Unbound part 1

This chapter is dedicated to peace shadow for being the first follower!

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Merlin was confused.  
He couldn't remember anything. His head was so foggy that Merlin couldn't think straight. He opened his eyes, unaware of who he was or where he was. The only thing he knew with certainty was that his name was Merlin.  
He looked around, trying to soak in his surroundings. He was in a carriage, which was bumping down the road. The landscape was mountainous, for far off in the distance he could see the grey line of tall mountains. On the road that they were traveling, there was trees all around. Where am I? He thought in wonder. It really was a beautiful place. It was not too much different from where he was from. It made Merlin ache inside. Wait, how did he know that? Not a secnd after he had had the thought had an image flashed through his mind and he got a glimpse of mountains that surrounded a lake and fog rolling through green hills. The image burned his head and made him flinch, leaving a dullpponding that quickly recedded. It was a memory, he thought amazed. He tried to remember something else about himself, but found that he couldn't. Why can't I remember anything? He wondered.  
"Hey you, you're finally awake."  
Merlin was startled for a moment before he realized that whoever said something was talking to him.  
Glancing around the carriage, he took in the people around him. Before he was so wrapped up in the landscape around him that he failed to notice the carriage he was in was occupied by others also.  
There was three men in the carriage next to him. They all had fair hair, and a stocky build. Merlin could tell, even though they were all sitting, that the men were rather tall. Nords, a little voice in the back of his mind whispered. He wasn't quite sure where the name came from just that it was more of an inkling, like Merlin had had known that in the past.  
The guy to Merlin's left was looking straight at him, and had obviously been the one to speak. He was dressed in armor, and was bound at the wrists. Looking down at his own hands, Merlin saw that he too was bound. He tried to remover why it was that he was bound, but his memories refused to return.  
"You were trying to cross the border, right?" The man said with a thick accent. Not knowing what else to do, Merlin gave a quick nod. He had the distinct feeling that that was not the case, but something told him to go along with the flow.  
"Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us, and that theif over there."  
Imperial ambush what does that mean? Merlin looked over the other two men and found that they looked much alike, except their clothes were drastically different.  
The one man, who was sitting across from Merlin, was ragged and looked to have just rags for clothes. His demeanor was hungry, and his face was too for it looked like he hasn't had a decent meal in a while. Merlin could tell that he was a thief, because it looked like he needed to steal to survive.  
The other man, however, was well-fed looking and was dressed in what looked like the best clothes money could buy. He had jewels, bright vibrant colors and even a fur lined cloak on his back. Oddly, he had also a cloth gagging him, along with the rope around his wrists. Merlin highly doubted that he was cold, and was suddenly very jealous of the man as a shiver racked his own body. He himself seemed to be wearing the same amount of clothes as the thief.  
Another image flashed through Merlin's mind as he was analyzing the man. It was him, with the same face but dressed in black leather armor and having a wicked smile on his face. He looked very happy, and determined at the same time. As with the last time, the image hurt, but quickly went away.  
The thief must have held some grudge against the men because he practically shouted, "Damn you Stormcloaks! Skyrim was fine until you came along!" His tone suddenly switched to wistful. "Empire was nice and lazy. If they haven't been looking for you, I could have been halfway to Hammerfell! You there," He turned his gaze to Merlin. "You and me, we shouldn't be here. It's these Stormcloaks that the Empire wants."  
Merlin was about to open his mouth and say something, but that same feeling told him to wait and just be silent, to learn as much as possible about the situation before making a decision. He somehow felt that he was often too hasty, and it was something he got reprimanded on regularly. But still his mind only gave him he barest of details.  
The man in armor merely said in response, to theif as if he was used to it, "We are all brothers in binds now, thief."  
The driver must have heard the conversation and hissed, "Shut-up back there."  
There was some silence that followed, but the thief soon spoke to me and nodded his head to the Nord who was gagged. "What's his problem?"  
The man in the armor was quick to retaliate, snapping, "Watch your tongue! You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true King of Skyrim."  
The Thief's face went from awed to apprehensive, to terrified in a second. "Ulfric, the Jarl of Windhelm." His face went slack as he came to another realization, and he looked like he truly feared for his life now. Merlin didn't understand the importance of the man sitting next to him, but he understood that he was a big deal, someone to be apprehensive about.  
"You're the leader of the rebellion. But if they've captured you... Oh gods! Where are they taking us?"  
Now Merlin understood. Sitting next to him was a leader of an uprising, and they, meaning the people that were holding them, are not taking the four of them to sit and talk things out. It also explained the gag. He wouldn't want someone who put this much fear into a man talking to the armored man, who was obviously in the rebellion with him. He didn't know why it was that they rebelled, but Merlin had some instinct that they were not in the right about their actions. Merlin had no clue why, but he felt like he held some sort of grudge. Why, he didn't know. He also realized that he didn't know a whole lot apparently.  
The armored man spoke again, saying, "I don't know we're going, but Sovngarde awaits." Merlin didn't even bother mulling this word over, he knew that he didn't know kit and he would just leave it at that. Or on the off chance, it might actually be familiar and trigger one of those flashback headaches. Those suck.  
"No! This can't be happening! This isn't happening!"  
"What village are you from, horse thief?" The man in armor asked, visibly trying to console the man that was fearing that his life will be taken. Merlin was scared too, but he figured that with this many people armed around him, that escape was futile. He, like the other men in the carriage with him had accepted their fate. Merlin was just sad that he would die not knowing who he was.  
"Why do you care?" the thief replied in a rather childish tone.  
"A Nord's last thoughts should be of home," he said simply.  
The thief bowed his head and said softly, "Rorikstead. I'm from Rorikstead."  
Before either of them had a chance to comment, a soldier called out from behind Merlin, "General Tullius, the headsman is waiting!"  
The thief went extremely pale and rigid. Merlin was starting to feel extremely sorry and exasperated with him.  
"Good. Let's get this over with," a gruff voice responded. Merlin assumed that he was General Tullius.  
"Shor, Mara, Dibella, Kynareth, Akatosh, divines! Help me!"  
Merlin and the rest in the carriage ignored the thief as they entered a city. There was a large wooden gate that opened when they got close and high stone walls that seemed to encompass the entire settlement. The whole place gave off a very innocent and peaceful vibe. Merlin refused to take a bad look at the situation and merely thought that it was a very nice place to die.  
Off to the immediate right was a group of people, with two on horses. One was in very elaborate and shiny armor and the other was dressed as equally elaborate, but much darker. Merlin couldn't see their faces, but he assumed that they weren't very friendly.  
"Look at him! General Tullius, the military governor. And it looks like the Thalmor are with him!" the armored Nord sneered. Merlin obviously didn't like to be executed, but these "Stormcloaks" almost seemed too bitter. "Damn elves. I bet they have something to do with this!"  
Merlin expected him to rant some more, but he just gave an almighty sigh. He seemed tired and like he had lost all hope now. There was couple seconds of silence and his tone switched completely going from harsh to wistful in no time flat.  
"This is Helgen. I used to be sweet on a girl from here. Wonder if Vilad is still making that mead with juniper berries." He paused, obviously reminiscing old memories. "Funny. When I was a boy, Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe."  
They were getting farther into the city, with more houses and people lingering around. There was a family sitting out on their front porch. The kid wanted to see the soldiers, but the father made him go inside. The interaction made Merlin smile and feel warm inside.  
The cart in front of them had stopped. Their carriage stopped to a halt, with of course the thief asking stupid questions, and freaking out.  
"Why are we stopping?"  
"Why do you think," said the armored man. "End of the line. Let's go. Shouldn't keep the gods waiting." We all stood and got into a line.  
"No, Wait! We're not rebels!" The thief yelled. Ulfric Stormcloak was stepping down onto the ground, his furs billowing slightly in the wind created by his fall.  
"Be calm. There is nothing to fear," said Merlin for the first time since waking up. He hated to see the man in such distress; he hadn't wanted to say anything. He didn't want something to happen to the man, and it seemed like he was a few straws short of trying to run. All of the men around them in armor were very well armed, and Merlin figured he would be signing his own death wish he even tried.  
The thief and the armored man turned to him. They looked surprised at his voice, but it had felt as if the air around them had calmed with him speaking. The armored man had opened his mouth to say something when a rough and very rigid female voice called out.  
"Step toward the block as we call your name," she called to the group. Merlin was jolted to attention as his mind started thinking. He didn't know anything about himself, but they might. They arrested him, and must have at least got where he was from him. Although with his luck, he probably knocked himself out and they just happened to run by his body lying on the ground. A smile came to his lips as a ghost of a memory came to the front of his eyes. He was in a large stone room, and charging forward, only to collide with a pillar. Weird, he thought, but at least this one didn't hurt my head as much. He shook said appendage a little to get himself back into the present. The whole situation was confusing and he was about to be executed. He really didn't need to worry seeing as he won't have a head to think within a few minutes.  
"Step forward as we call your name," the strict sounding female called. They all started shuffling forward, in nervous anticipation.  
"Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm," a male soldier called out from next to the woman. Merlin's attention was drawn to him and yet another pain flashed through his head as an image of the man in chainmail and a deep red cloak thrown over his shoulders. He had his arms raised in celebration, with a tankard in his right hand, which Merlin knew instinctively was mead. There was a huge sloppy grin plastered all over his face. This memory hurt more than the past few, and made Merlin cringe and bring his tied hands to his head.  
"It has been an honor, Jarl Ulfric," whispered the armored man, almost too low for Merlin to hear him.  
The roll call continued. "Ralof of Riverwood."  
The armored man moved over to the executioners block.  
"Lokir of Rorikstead."  
The thief, Lokir looked about ready to bolt, but Merlin consoled him, saying, "Be calm, if you run you will meet the same fate as if you stayed. Just, you will die a coward's death. You are a Nord, so act like one."  
He nodded to himself and moved to the block to stand next to Ralof.  
Merlin prepared for his name to be called.  
"Wait, you there." The man, whom Merlin vaguely remembered, pointed at him. "Step forward."  
Merlin obeyed and let the man and woman scrutinize him. "Who...are you?"  
He was about to answer with a sarcastic comment, but decided to be serious.  
"I am Merlin."  
The man tilted his head, as if recognizing him and stared some more. Merlin was beginning to become uncomfortable with the amount of scrutiny upon him, when the man shook his head, just as Merlin did a minute ago.  
"You aren't with the Aldmeri Dominion, are you elf? You are a High Elf, right? You almost look to be a very thin Nord. Your ears give you away though. They are so big!" the man rambled slightly. He seemed to have realized what he had just said. An awkward silence commenced, until the man spoke up again.  
"Captain, what should we do? He is not on the list."  
She seemed to pause for a second, before barking out, "Forget the list! He goes to the block."  
It was nothing less than Merlin expected, and he accepted his fate. However, the man let out a large sigh. "By your orders Captain."  
He turned to Merlin with a look of pity on his face. "I'm sorry. I'll make sure you remains are sent to the Summerset Isle." Merlin could tell the look on his face was genuine, and he felt his respect for the man sore. He was being kind and generous to him, whom was seen as the enemy. That spoke leagues of his character. Merlin bowed his head in respect, and followed the capital to the block.  
Soon everyone was situated and it started.  
The man whom Ralof identified as General Tullius was in the middle of the small courtyard that was in front of a tower. The headsman and the fateful block were to the right of him. Merlin looked to all of them around him and saw there were quite a few of the 'Stormcloaks'. Only he and Lokir had no armor on.  
"Ulfric Stormcloak!" said the General. "Some here in Helgen call you a hero. But a hero doesn't use a power like the voice to miser his king and usurp his throne. You started this war! Plunged Skyrim into chaos! And now the Empire is going to put you down and restore the peace."  
The end of his speech was punctuated by a load roar that sounded like it made from over the mountain. There were some murmurings among the crowd, and merlin was of the same suit. He didn't know of anything that made that noise granted he didn't know much of anything at this point. But he couldn't deny that the sound made something stir up inside him. He didn't know if it was fear, adrenaline or something else.  
"What was that?" the Captain asked.  
There was a pause before the general answered her. "It's nothing. Carry on."  
"Yes general Tullius!" She turned to a priestess, who was wearing bright yellow robes. "Give them their last rights."  
Oh, thought Merlin. At least we get last rights. It's a start.  
The woman stepped forward and raised her arms. "As we commend your souls to atherius, blessings of the eight divines-"  
She was curt of by a rather fearless Stormcloak. "For the love of Talos, shut up and let's get this over with!"  
The priestess looked rather affronted and lowered her arms and stepped back, saying stiffly, "As you wish."  
The soldier was standing there, impatiently waiting. The captain and the headsman were still, until the man egged them on. The captain put a hand on his back, and not all too gently, gave him a little kick behind his knees, so he kneeled on the cobblestone ground, and set his head on the block, facing the crowd.  
"My ancestors are smiling at me Imperials. Can you say the same?" He sure seemed to make a big deal out of the situation, and wanted glory. His question was answered nonverbally when his head was severed from his neck. Merlin had an instinct to turn his head, but forced himself to watch.  
There was some general out crying, but nothing to what Merlin thought there would have been. And it seemed to split towards both sides. Some were calling, "Justice!" and others various curses against the Stormcloaks. Damn, Merlin had to appreciate their creativity.  
"As fearless in death as he was in life," Ralof commented from beside Merlin. Merlin had to give it to him that he seemed to truly care for his men, and he knew Ralof would be toasting to him, wherever they end up.  
Before Merlin could think anymore or reply to Ralof, another cry came out from the captain. "Next, the High Elf!"  
Merlin realized with a jolt that she was calling him. He had a moment of confusion. Why weren't they executing the leader of the rebellion before him? Why was he so important?  
The roar came again, sounding louder and much closer now. Merlin was almost sure it was a Dragon, but if anyone asked him why, he would not be able to tell them. It seemed like something natural for him to identify.  
"There it is again," said the nice imperial as everyone was looking up. "Did you hear that?"  
The captain shook her head and bellowed, "I SAID, next PRISONER!"  
"To the block prisoner, nice and easy," the same man said to Merlin gently. Merlin moved his legs, stumbling all the way, keeping his head bowed. When he was about five feet away, he actually did stumble and would have fallen flat on his face, if not for a strong hand that curled around his bicep.  
He picked up his head and looked straight into the eyes of the man, and found him staring into his face, with a puzzled expression on his face. The pair stayed like that for a few moments, before it occurred to Merlin how weird this must look. He gently pulled his arm back, saying thanks slowly.  
The soldier came out of his trance and gave a slight nod of the head saying, "No problem. Watch your step Merlin."  
Merlin gave a small smile and stood at his step in front of the block. He felt the fateful hand on his back, and the foot that forced him to kneel. He dropped to his knees and saw the block up close, trying to avoid the previous man. The piece of wood had gobs of blood on it, and it was inevitable that Merlin's cheek became smeared with blood. He gagged, but managed to keep it contained. He wanted to be at peace when he died and faced the headsman, tower, and the mountains. He watched as the man readied himself, and hefted his axe above his head. Merlin was resolutely staring at the mountains when all of a sudden one of them moved. He knew the distinctive shape, and the wings, and knew it could only be a Dragon.  
It moved behind the tower and Merlin picked up his head slightly to try to see it better. All of a sudden, the dragon landed on the tower with an almighty crash that seemed to shake the foundations of the earth. The Dragon was black, and honestly put a terrible fear into Merlin. He could hear the screams around him, but the headsman seemed either to not notice or care that a dragon just landed. Part, thought Merlin.  
The dragon opened its huge jaws, and where Merlin expected fire to come out, there was only a concussive sound; so much that Merlin could actually see the waves of power flowing to him. They hit the headsman who fell to the ground, hitting his head on the ground with a sickening crack. Merlin suspected that he would not be getting up again.  
Merlin quickly got to his feet, trying to move his gangly legs. His balance was suffering more than usual, seeing as his hands were bound. The dragon was looking right at him, as fire rained down from a stormy sky. Merlin was entranced by the beast, and found himself lost for some reason. He felt like he should be doing something, but it wasn't coming to him. The dragon opened his mouth again, and Merlin closed his eyes, accepting the inevitable.

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Cliffy! Sorry this took a little longer than expected. Finals came up and they swamped me. No promises when the next one will be up but hopefully within the next two weeks!  
Any questions, leave a review or PM me! :)  
Thanks for reading  
Ebony


	3. Chapter 3- Unbound part 2

Hello! This is dedicated to all of my wonderful followers. (A whole whopping four!) sorry it took so long. My iPod died and that's what I use to type and I was at girls state this past week, and speaking of that I met my wonderful beta there so thanks to her! She is amazing! :)

Enjoy!

Unbound part 2

The dragon was staring him right in the face. And Merlin froze. Who wouldn't? It opened its jaws wide and sucked in a breath. Merlin could feel the giant vocal cords that the dragon possessed start to vibrate. A low "Yol" resonated to his toes and he should see the start of a fiery inferno at the back of its throat. Merlin closed his eyes and turned his head, not wanting to see the fire come straight for him.

Suddenly, his arm was yanked downward as someone pulled down. His knees buckled and he watched as the fire flew over his head. He covered his head with his long arms and faced the ground, protecting his hair from the intense heat. As it was, the hair was singed off his arms.

It stopped and he peeked up. The dragon either thought he was vaporized or didn't want to bother with trying to kill him again, because it unfurled its great black wings and took to the stormy sky, flying low and spewing flames over the little town . He got to his feet and looked around, taking in the destruction around him. It had only been about 45 seconds since the dragon landed, and the courtyard where Merlin was almost killed already had a huge crater in it, and flames everywhere.

The person who had saved him was on the ground still covering their head. He didn't need to see his face to know that it was the thief, Lokir. Merlin dropped to his knees to check that the man was still alive. He grasped his shoulders and turned him over and looked into his eyes. Fear-filled orbs looked back at him.

Merlin gazed right into his face. Lokir was frantically glancing around, seemingly overwhelmed by the destruction and terror around them. "Lokir," Merlin yelled.

The man didn't hear him, or didn't recognize his voice in his terror-fueled state. He just stared, not really focusing on one singular thing.

"LOKIR!" Merlin tried again, slightly shaking the man with his bound wrists. That finally did the trick and the man looked right at Merlin. "Thank you, Lokir, for saving my life. However, if we stay here much longer, we will be toasted. We must move! Now, GO!"

Lokir gave a short nod and both men stood. Merlin now saw a flaw in their plan. There was fire everywhere, and escape seemed for naught. He kept searching, and searching, frantically turning in his spot as the ground rumbled with every fireball and roar that came from the sky.

Then, he sought out a figure standing next to a wall of flames, waving his arms up and down. It was Ralof.

He grabbed Lokir's arm and pointed out the man to him. "There! Run, now! Go! I will be right behind you. He can help us get to safety."

Lokir didn't need any more convincing, and set off at a dead sprint for Ralof. Merlin gave the courtyard one last glance, making sure there was no one else that was moving. Then Merlin ran after him. He went around the wall of flames to see a large tower. The door was open and Lokir was standing with his hand outstretched.

Suddenly, there was a roar behind Merlin, and he glanced back to see the dragon banking in the air - preparing to dive right for Merlin. He poured on the speed, pushing his legs to go faster. He was about 20 yards from the door when he heard that unmistakable rumble of a foreign word. The low "Yol" permeated the thick air, and made Merlin desperately push his body harder and tense up his shoulders at the same time. Merlin could feel heat on the back of his neck when he burst through the threshold of the tower, knocking over Lokir, making them fall to the floor in a heap.

A cry of, "Close!" came up and the door was shut, cutting off the flames that just about roasted all of them inside.

Merlin got up and dusted himself off, extended his hand to grasp Lokir's, and heaved him up. They clapped each other on the back appreciatively. Merlin turned to Ralof.

"Thank you. Without that help out there, we would have been roasted. I owe you."

Ralof just shook his head. "I was just doing my duty. There is something about you that I can't ignore."

"Still. Thank you."

"We can't stay here, men," said the Jarl, Ulfric Stormcloak. Merlin hadn't realized when he got up that Ulfric was in the room. Now that he looked around, there were also two Stormcloak on the ground, surrounded by streaks of what was obviously their own blood. They had two comrades tending to them, but Merlin could tell that they were not going to make it.

The Jarl continued, "I'm glad that you are alive, Merlin, but we can't stay here and let this cursed Dragon drop this tower on our heads, no matter if the blasted Empire is looking for us."

Right at that moment, the tower rumbled, as if unsteady on its own foundations.

"You are right, of course, Jarl Ulfric. Let's go up to see if there is a way out," said Ralof.

The two Stormcloaks that were helping their fallen comrades crossed the room and started bolting up the stairs, quickly followed by Ralof, Ulfric, Merlin and Lokir. They reached the second floor just as the tower shook again and the dragons roar sounded just on the other side of the wall. Merlin was putting his foot on the landing when the roar sounded. He instantly threw out his bound arms to stop Lokir, and then a another second later to pull on the expensive cloak of Ulfric, who then grabbed the purple cloak of Ralof in front of him. They made a huge stumbling chain of bodies, with Merlin supporting the two men in front of him, which was a chore in itself because they were not thin and Merlin was lacking in brute strength and had bound hands. Why didn't they cut me loose? he thought. Did they cut Lokir's bonds? Merlin didn't even have to look, because he could feel two hands largely spaced on his back.

But it wasn't a moment too soon because the wall imploded inward, crushing the two soldiers that had come up with them. A torrent of flames burst through the hole. Merlin, Lokir, Ralof and Ulfric on the stairs ducked down and covered their heads to protect themselves from any flames that came around the tower. Even if the two soldiers had survived the amount of rubble thrown on top of them, they couldn't have survived that. The massive jaws of the dragon came through the hole too, but that was all that would fit. The dragon tried vainly to enlarge the hole, but must have become bored because it flew off yet again.

Merlin was the first to get up and look around. Sure enough, there were the scorched remains of the men amid all of the destruction. He closed his eyes for a moment, in respect of the men.

"We need to get out of here," said Ulfric. He wasn't even looking at the men that gave up their lives for him.

Merlin was shocked that Ulfric could leave his downed soldiers like that. "What about them? Aren't you going to even acknowledge their death for you?" he exclaimed in disbelief.

Ulfric turned to Merlin with a scowl on his face and gave a short and curt reply. "They knew what the risks were when they joined the rebellion. Their family will be notified. They died for the cause. Now, we don't have time to argue about this, because we will become them soon. If you are done arguing like an idiot, let's find a way out of here!"

Merlin merely turned up his nose at the man and turned his head to look at Lokir, who looked to be mirroring his own thoughts of disgust. He really didn't want to be in the company of these men any longer. He was getting more irritated each second.

Ralof was looking, very bravely in Merlin's opinion, out of the hole to the landscape below. "Look, there is that house down a few feet below. It's a little far to jump, but if you jump to the rafters, it should be fine. Go! We'll be right behind you two!"

Merlin went to the door and took a look for himself. There was a house down below, burning, with its roof partially torn off. What Ralof had said was true; they could make the jump, and they were sitting ducks in the tower. It was only a matter of time before the Dragon came back.

Merlin nodded at Lokir when he came up beside him, looking decidedly nervous about the jump. He leaned over to the man and said, "Don't worry, I'll go first and you can follow me. You don't have to go first."

Lokir's face was one of relief and determination. Merlin got up on the ledge with his wrists still bound and gave a quick smile. Then he jumped.

The wind rushed through his short black hair as he fell towards the house. He heard another roar as he fell, but ignored it, focusing on landing this with as minimal pain as possible.

His feet met up with the large sturdy rafters with a loud thud, and a hot pain lanced through his feet, like stepping on nails. But it was bearable, and started to go away instantly.

He waved his hands in a gesture to tell Lokir to jump. Lokir still had that apprehensive face, but climbed up into the opening and jumped anyway.

Merlin's head suddenly felt like it had split apart.

An image of a kid standing in a wood on the bank of a river came up into his mind. He had the same look of apprehension that Lokir had, so much so that they looked to be closely related. Merlin had the sensation of being in water, and heard a younger version of his own voice calling, "Will! Come on, just jump! The water feels amazing after stacking all that wood."

He just looked at the river in fear and trepidation, not really wanting to jump.

"I don't know, Merlin! I just don't want to get wet now," said the kid that looked like a younger version of Lokir – Will. He started turning around when suddenly, a branch whipped around from a tree and smacked him harmlessly in the chest, sending him flying backwards into the river a few feet below.

Merlin was brought back to the surface by a cry of "MERLIN! HELP!"

He blinked his eyes a few times to clear the fog from them and saw Will – no, Lokir – on the rafter next to him, flailing his arms, trying to regain his balance. It clicked in Merlin's head what was happening when Lokir started to tip backwards towards a fall of fifteen feet. He threw out his hands to catch Lokir's and pulled the man up next to him. They stilled for a moment to catch their balance and breath before speaking.

"Thanks," came the heavy panting from Lokir.

"Any time," replied Merlin.

Lokir stood on one foot while holding the other, obviously feeling the same as Merlin.

"I know you feel the same way that I do about the Stormcloaks. Come on, let's go and ditch them before they catch up," said Merlin.

Lokir nodded. "Do we really have to jump again?"

"Well, do you want to stay here and let the flames reach you? I personally don't want that to happen."

Merlin didn't wait for a reply. He crouched down and grabbed the rafter with his still bound hands, letting his legs drop and hang. His hands were holding his entire weight, but this cut down on the distance he had to drop. The creaking of the rafter and the vibrations he felt in his hand told him that Lokir was doing the same thing next to him. He let go with his hands and dropped to the second floor, bending his knees so it didn't hurt as much. There was no pain in his feet and only minimal scratches and slivers in his hands and arms. Lokir dropped next to him a moment later.

Merlin scanned the floor. There were no bodies that he could see, but half of the floor was blocked off by a wall of flames. He could see some stairs on the side, but there was the problem of going through fire to get to them. The only option was to jump. Again.

He and Lokir repeated the same procedure as the last one before landing on solid ground. He looked around the house but found nothing but flames again. Anyone caught up in the flames was surely dead. Merlin shook his head slightly, trying to feel for all of the dead and family members that have lost loved ones.

The door was blocked, but it seemed that when the dragon attacked he conveniently burned a hole in the wall, large enough for Merlin and Lokir to exit through. They shared a glance and gave a nod to each other, then exited the house.

Merlin didn't see all of the destruction when he was jumping, and was kind of glad that he didn't. Definitely would have thrown off his landing.

Destruction was everywhere. Destroyed houses with big smoldering holes, or even reduced to rubble. Roadways blocked off, towers crumbling. Women and children running around screaming for each other while trying to avoid all of the fireballs that rained down from the sky. Men and soldiers, Imperials and the remaining Stormcloaks alike, scrambled around, either uselesssly defending the city from the Dragon or getting the survivors out of the city.

Merlin applauded their efforts and wanted to join in, but he was so confused. He didn't want to get caught up in another one of his memories when he possibly had a child in his arms. He figured it would be better to keep his head down and avoid being seen so he could get out of the town.

Right in front of the house that Merlin and Lokir had just exited was the male soldier that had triggered a memory in Merlin. Merlin didn't know why, but he knew, somehow, that he could trust this man with his life. When he was up on the block, the man was very sympathetic, and genuinely seemed to care about what happened to Merlin. Another thing was that he called him a "High Elf." The man didn't seem to have a problem with him, but Merlin could tell that when he was with Ulfric and the other Stormcloaks, they shied away from him and weren't too friendly.

I must look different, Merlin thought. Huh. That's funny. I don't even remember what I look like. He resolved to look in the first reflective surface he found. But now was not the time to do such things. As his mind went elsewhere, Merlin realized that the nice man had spoken to him and was trying to get his attention.

"What?" Merlin said, sounding rather stupid.

The man had a slight smirk on his face as he talked. "I said that we need to move, Merlin, if we would all like to survive. Follow me! We're going to the keep!"

Now that Merlin was back in the moment, he agreed. The man had the weapons, and he and Lokir were defenseless, especially himself considering that his wrists still had that rope around them. They needed the advantage of weapons if they were to going survive. Merlin looked to Lokir for confirmation, but knew that he didn't really need it. Lokir nodded again.

Merlin turned to the man. "Of course. First, though, can you tell us your name?"

"Hadvar."

Merlin felt a chill go down his spine. Hadvar drew his sword and started running. After sharing a glance with Lokir, Merlin followed.

They sprinted to the closest house, which was across the road, and was backed up against one of the walls that was still intact. They ran around to the back, hoping to avoid being spotted. As soon as they reached the entrance of the little alleyway, there was a great roar overhead. The three of them stilled and pressed themselves against the wall. Flames came from over the house, rolling over it and spilling into the alleyway, but luckily not reaching them.

"Let's move!" called Hadvar.

The house's roof and back door were conveniently blown off by the dragon itself and they were able to run though it, avoiding the dragon's sight.

They came out on the road in the town and in the midst of destruction yet again. They ran down the road, passing soldiers vainly shooting arrows at the beast and trying to help people escape. They even passed General Tullius, who yelled at Hadvar to get them to safety. Merlin was sure then that he made the right decision to go with the Imperials, even though they tried to behead him. Merlin was able to forgive them for their simple mistake, because here they were trying to save his life. They continued down the road to the keep. After a few more minutes, they came upon it, but Ralof was already there.

"Come on Merlin, Lokir, over here!"

"Not a chance, Ralof!" responded Hadvar. "Come on, over here you two!"

Merlin and Lokir barely shared a glance and ran over with Hadvar to the entrance of the keep, not even looking toward the solo Stormcloak. They left behind the sounds of chaos and destruction from the Dragon attacking the poor hopeless town. Merlin felt terrible for leaving them to fend for themselves, but he knew that he wouldn't be able to do anything to help.

They came into a large room that seemed oddly quiet after the chaos outside. They all took a deep breath of relief, instantly feeling the safety of the cavern. They had made it past the dragon. All seemed well, but Merlin still had a feeling that this was not yet over.

Hadvar turned to them and pulled out a dagger from his belt. "Here, let me cut those bindings for you."

He walked to Merlin and with a neat slice the ropes fell off his wrists into a pile on the floor. He was amazed he was able to survive all of that with basically no use of his hands. There must have been something else involved, but now wasn't the time. Merlin rubbed the raw part of his wrists, trying to alleviate the pain.

The three of them started at each other for a moment, waiting for someone to take charge. Hadvar gave a quiet cough.

"Well, we made it this far. You guys might want to find something to arm yourselves with, or see if you can find some armor in these chests. If you get lucky you might find some potions or gold," he said.

"Wait," said Lokir. "Arm ourselves? Why would we have to do that?"

"Because we probably weren't the only ones with the idea of going to the keep, and they aren't going to all be friendly. Obviously not, if Ralof was there too. By the way, how did he know your names?"

"We met up with him for a short while. Didn't really get along," replied Merlin.

"I understand. Probably didn't like you because you are not a Nord. They have a very strong Nordic belief and distrust any other race, especially elves and high elves. Come on, we have to get going," he said before Merlin could ask why. Merlin let it drop and he went around to look at what the room had to offer. He looked at a table and grabbed the spare coins. There was also a dagger sitting there and a map of somewhere.

"That's Skyrim," said Hadvar from right behind Merlin, startling him.

"So, where are we?"

"Right by the mountain. In Helgen, just a little town within Winterhold," he said pointing. "This is a pretty good map: magical, a perfect size and in good condition. You should take it. Maps are very useful when traveling. Just to make sure you are going in the right direction."

The map had all of Skyrim's terrain, but only nine dull looking which Merlin assumed were cities, and Helgen, which was brighter. An arrow pointed downwards to the house that represented the city.

"Why are there only these markers? Skyrim has to have more than this. And what is that arrow?" asked Merlin. If he was stuck here with no memory it would be nice to know where everything was.

"It does, but the map only shows places that you have been. Don't know why magical maps are like this. But this is sacrificed so you can magically travel to places you have been. Comes in handy, and is less work than actually traveling that distance. Although some get sick from the travel, I have a feeling that you will not be one of those. And as for the arrow, that is I suppose you. You are the one holding the map so it marks where you are."

After the long explanation Merlin only had a nod in response. He saw how useful this could be in the future.

"Hey Merlin! Do you want this leather armor?" called Lokir from the other side of the room. A chest at the end of four beds was open, and some pieces of leather were hanging out of it. Merlin and Hadvar walked over and looked in. Hadvar pulled the armor out and held it up.

It was made of simple leather and would offer basic protection. It had a chest piece and shoulder padding with a slight bottom, enough to protect the really important stuff. Merlin leaned over more and looked more into the chest to find the other pieces, a helmet, boots and bracers in the same leather and style. A full set of armor, like Lokir said.

Lokir was just finishing tightening the straps on his own armor. It was obviously more heavy duty than Merlin's, with an iron chest plate and strong fastenings. Even just standing he could see that Lokir's muscles were straining slightly to hold the armor. Merlin might not have the same protection, but it was obvious that he wasn't built to hold that heavy armor on his shoulders.

Merlin grabbed the leather armor and put it on, flying through the complicated straps and bindings with practiced movements. He didn't even realize what he was doing before it was done; every piece was on and comfortably suited to his body. The other two were looking in amazement and Hadvar had a hand stretched out in preparation to help Merlin who obviously didn't need it. There was an awkward pause with Lokir and Hadvar looking expectantly at him.

"What?"

"How- what?" said Lokir in disbelief.

"I don't know," said Merlin, shrugging his shoulders. "It was kind of like muscle memory. I didn't even think about what I was doing."

"Well," said Lokir. "Nice job." You want to grab that Iron Sword from the shelf. It seemed like a nice balance and fit for you. Of course, you can always take the mace if you want. Sorry, but I took the Greatsword, if you don't mind."

"Not at all," Merlin replied.

He went to the rack and tested the mace, but it was too heavy. The axe was better, but the sword was much faster, and more balanced to Merlin's arm. He swung it around a bit and felt silly. He looked to Hadvar, who was smirking slightly.

"What? Am I doing something wrong?"

"No, nothing. It's just... You look like... I don't know—" said Hadvar.

"—A child, or someone who has never held a sword in their life," finished Lokir.

"Thanks guys!" said Merlin sarcastically.

They all were ready to venture in through the keep.


	4. Chapter 4- Unbound part 3

WARNING: Strong violence ahead. Although if you are reading this it means you most likely play Skyrim and are therefore used to beheadings and blood spurting out.

I had a question about the matching a of characters.

Hadvar: Gwaine

Lokir: Will

Ulfric Stormcloak: Cenred

Dovahkiin/Dragonborn; Merlin

I thinks that's all that has popped up so far. I've picked them for the main characters, which is about 50.

Merlin is just starting out at this point, Level 1

Also, I'd recommend reading the authors note at bottom.

Chapter 4- Unbound part 3

Lokir, surprisingly was the first one to reach the gate. He walked over and pulled the chain on the wall to the right. There was a loud clicking sound and the iron gate lifted up and opened, showing a hallway. They were greeted by the same architecture as the room they were just in, with roughly cut stones making up the floor, ceiling and walls. The place once looked very elegant, but Merlin could tell that the attack of the dragon had taken its toll on the keep because of the rock that was scattered around and all of the rubble and dust that still crumbled from the unstable ceiling.

Hadvar took the lead and with Merlin and Lokir following, they started to make their way through the keep. They went down a hallway with their weapons sheathed.

"Do you think anyone else survived?" Asked Lokir.

"It's possible. We have to be on guard because all down here may not be friendly. If you see someone with purple be prepared to defend yourselves. I hope it doesn't come to that but it always seems to," said Hadvar.

They took a right and came to another grate. Beyond that was a circular room and they could hear voices arguing. They weren't in the direct line of sight for Merlin, but Hadvar was closer.

"Stormcloaks. Maybe we can try to reason with them," he said as he went to the wall and pulled the chain which opened the gate with a loud crash.

The Stormcloaks heard the gate open and turned to see the three of them. Merlin finally had a good look at them and noticed that one was male and the other female. The male had a Greatsword on his hip and the female had an giant War Axe that was strapped at an angle on her back. There was a pause in which they all stood silent, the others not knowing what they should do.

It was broken by a throaty yell from the male who started running towards Hadvar and Lokir while pulling his sword off his back. Lokir and Hadvar took out their weapons and readied them. The man hardly slowed as he reached the two, making an almighty swing once he was in reach, Hadvar taking the brunt of the blow on his shield and Lokir protecting himself from the swing that glanced off Hadvars shield with his sword tilted perfectly to keep it away from him.

Another yell brought Merlin from his observations as he remembered that there was a second person, and that she was running right for him with her axe swung back behind her head. He clumsily pulled the sword from its sheath on his hip, almost dropping it. He brought it up just in time to stop the great axe from severing his head from his body. As it was her swing pushed his sword to the side and it slid up the edge, nearly nicking his ear. She readied herself for another swing, this one looking like it would split him in half lengthwise. She hefted the weapon over her head as the headsman did not so long ago to bring it down on him. In that moment he was not sure if he could stop such an attack from hitting him. As she swung down however, Merlin's body acted of its own accord. He dropped down to a crouch and rolled out of the way gracefully as her axe hit the hard stone floor. Momentarily stunned, she stood still for a few moments with her axe on the ground, and that was all Merlin needed. He slashed with his sword while still crouched and sliced the muscles on the back of her left knee. She gave a cry and twisted, dropping her axe and gripping her injured joint, falling to the ground as it suddenly would not support her weight anymore. Merlin half rose out of the crouch and swung his sword in a tight circle by his side and pointed the tip downward, stabbing her in the chest, killing her instantly.

He stood shakily and took his sword out of her body. He had just killed someone. With hardly a moments hesitation. His hands shook and he dropped his weapon. He felt really dizzy and put his hands on his knees, bowing his head and taking deep breaths to steady his rapid heartbeat. Once it slowed a little he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see Hadvar looking right into his eyes.

"You all right?"

Merlin nodded. "Physically yes. Mentally or morally? Not really."

Lokir came up to him. "That's funny because here you are acting like this was your first kill when I'm willing to bet my mother that that was far from it."

Merlin looked at him confused. He didn't remember ever picking up a sword in his life. Granted he didn't remember much of anything.

"To be honest, I don't remember much of my life. Only flashes. I don't even know where I'm from or if I have a family."

Merlin saw that this information surprised the other men and he looked around the room awkwardly. He saw a couple more beds and tables but nothing real special. He knelt on the ground next to the woman he had slain. They all were trying to survive and they might have better equipment or items. They weren't going to help her any longer. He searched her body for anything useful. He couldn't find anything on her useful except for a small purse with 5 gold in it. He put the gold he had gotten before with it and slipped it into a little pocket on his armor. He went on to the other man searching some more. He noticed that he had on some fur gauntlets, and that Merlin had none what so ever. He took them off the man and had slid one on his arm, doing up the leather wrapping cords when Lokir said something.

"Well, could've fooled me. You handled that sword like an old pro. I doubt I could have pulled that off."

Merlin stood, grabbing his sword off the ground and looked both men in the eyes. They were staring back not really showing anything in their eyes or faces, but acceptance. Merlin felt a swell of pride for these two loyal, he guessed they could be called friends.

"Thanks, I think?" said Merlin. "We should keep moving though. Right?"

Hadvar jumped into action. "Of course. Everyone is alright?" Both Merlin and Lokir nodded. "Good. This way, follow me!"

They walked out of the room, Merlin finishing putting on his other gauntlet. They went down a staircase that had a slight curve in it. There was a small landing and they immediately took a right and then another, going fast that they didn't give Merlin any chance to look in the carts that were piled at the bottom of the stone stairs.

They entered a hallway just as a mighty roar could be heard. Lokir pulled Hadvar back just as the ceiling in front of them collapsed with a great rumble. Rocks tumbled down and shattered upon hitting the solid floor. A huge dust cloud billowed from the fallen stone and took a few moments to clear. When it did all three men looked to see if they could make it through, but there wasn't an opening at all. The ceiling wasn't even distinguishable anymore, and the hall was completely filled with the material.

"Well, the dragon is sure persistent," commented Lokir seemingly offhandedly.

"Yeah he doesn't want to give up," agreed Merlin.

Luckily enough, there was an open doorway to the left.

They saw a warm glow before they even stepped foot in the room. A fireplace was lit and by the smell of things a stew was being made in the cooking rack above the flames. The three walked in, but stopped when they realized that they weren't alone.

Two Stormcloaks were in the next part of the room, arguing. It looked to be a storage hallway. One seemed to want to leave right away, but the other was insistent on looking through the barrels for the potions that the imperials apparently stashed.

Merlin and Lokir were crouched behind a column in the middle of the room, staying out if the Stormcloaks' eyesight. Hadvar was closer to them, hiding right around the corner from them and the barrels. They made eye contact with one another, and nodded, Hadvar making hand gestures that held no meaning for Merlin. He couldn't understand what he was supposed to do by a few flings of a wrist. So when Hadvar came out from his corner and approached the Stormcloaks, so did Merlin. Lokir followed silently.

Merlin was just marveling at how silent they all were when he didn't see a piece of debris on the floor. Of course his foot kicked it and sent it skidding over to stop right in front of the Stormcloaks. They stopped their argument and drew their weapons.

Hadvar charged them.

Hadvar took one on his own and they looked to be pretty efficient with a sword. They pushed with their blade in just the right spot and Hadvar's shield went skidding to Merlin's feet. Hadvar was forced to start using the blade as a hand and a half.

The other one was fighting with Lokir, and like Hadvar, Lokir wasn't making any progress against his enemy. Merlin felt bad because he wasn't fighting. Maybe he could sneak up on them. He grabbed Hadvar's fallen sheild, and readied his sword on the top of the shield in a waiting position. The shield felt awkward, but still Merlin tried it out. He would have to move his center of gravity, but he didn't see it as that big of a deal. He thought, what the hell? And gave a loud yell and charged one of the Stormcloak soldier to help Lokir.

He was almost there when, he tripped. His foot had found one cobblestone that was slightly upheaved from the others around it, and got stuck on the half inch that stuck up. He totally lost the concentration he had and his body went sprawling. With a loud, "Whoah!" He fell to the ground with the ahold banging the ground and getting trapped underneath his body. His arm with the sword flinging out forward to try to vainly catch his balance again. He laid there for few moments trying to pluck up the courage to face his companions again. They probably would abandon him and he wouldn't blame them. Tripping over a stone. Heh, he couldn't believe it.

All of a sudden, he heard a yell, the sickening sound of a sword cutting through flesh and armor, and a dead thump. He picked up his head to see the Stormcloak that Lokir was fighting on the ground with a pool of blood rapidly expanding around him. He glanced up at Lokir, who had a grin on his face.

Hadvar must have gotten an opportunity to strike also. There was a nasty gurgle and Merlin looked to see Hadar's sword sticking out of the back of the Stormcloak. Hadvar stayed like that for a few moments before jerking his sword down and out of the corpse. He too gave a grin to Merlin.

Lokir came over to Merlin and held his hand out. Merlin grasped the mans wrist and allowed himself to be pulled up.

"Great idea Merlin. You gave a moments distraction to let me gain the upper hand. Without you I'm not sure I would have won that fight," said Lokir.

"Yeah Merlin. If he hadn't felled that man, my fight would have kept going. We were too well evenly matched," echoed Hadvar.

Merlin rubbed his neck in embarrassment. "Yeah, well I didn't mean to trip. It just kind of happened. I meant to charge in and help."

Hadvar and Lokir both had confused looks on their faces. "You tripped?"

Asked Lokir in astonishment.

"Right on this block," said Merlin, nudging it with his boot.

Hadvar just shook his head. "You are a riddle Merlin. I never would have suspected that you would trip at all with a sword in your hand after the display you gave us barely five minutes ago. You were graceful and sure. Not clumsy. But nonetheless, you did just save our lives." With that he turned picked up his shield and went to the door to the right. "If you want you could searh the barrels for those potions."

Merlin walked over to them and lifted the lids. One had a bunch of wheat and another had three apples. The next one though had two of each potions of labeled potions of health magicka and stamina. He was at a loss. What was he supposed to do with these?

"The health one heals you, the magicka one replenishes your magicka and same with stamina. Stamina is your strength. With more stamina you can carry more, run longer and deliver heavier blows," informed Lokir.

"Thanks," said Merlin, slightly overwhelmed by the knowledge.

He and Lokir joined Hadvar at the door. "Ready then?" He asked. The two nodded. He grabbed the handle and opened the heavy door.

There was a small hallway and a left turn and they were going down a small flight of stairs when Hadvar spoke. "Gods, I wish we didn't need these."

"Didn't need what?" Asked Merlin.

"Torture chambers."

Merlin instantly felt sick, but strange also. As they reached the room the smell of death got stronger and stronger, but he had this feeling that he couldn't quite explain. Like there was something burning inside him warmly. It was a good feeling but it left him puzzled.

They got to the end of the stairs and had first sight of the room.

It had three cages, one had a corpse in it. The smell was terrible. Blood was splattered everywhere. The other side of the room had a gated off portion with some shelves and a weapon rack. Right next to that was a rack for torturing that had blood splatters all over it and was dripping fresh blood. There was two columns in the middle, and one column had a small table with a knapsack on it next to it. The torturer was easy to identify; a shallow faced and waxy looking man. He was crouched and had one hand outstretched, shooting bolts of light from his hand. He held a dagger in the other. He was just finishing killing a female soldier that was attacking him. There was another man in the room with him who was obviously a Nord. He was big and tall, looking like a brute with his tight iron armor and double bladed war axe in his hands that was wet with the blood of his foe. It looked like he beheaded a man.

"You need to get out of here!" exclaimed Hadvar once the fight was done. Merlin was of the same mind set. He may not like what they did, but they didn't deserve to die.

"Why?" The torturer asked in a drawling voice.

"Why? Because a damned dragon is attacking! That's why!" Hadvar yelled.

The man snorted. "Yeah right. I would just like to continue my work."

Hadvar looked like he was about to yell again. Merlin wondered if he should say anything. He shared a glance with Lokir. Lokir shook his head.

"Fine. Suit yourself we are escaping. This place will probably fall on your head," said Hadvar.

"Screw the old man. I'm coming with you," said the assistant.

Merlin blanked out the rest of the conversation. The feeling was getting stronger and harder to resist like an itch he couldn't reach. It tugged at his middle like a rope pulling him tonthe source. He walked over to the cages. The middle one had a man in it who was wearing robes. There was few pieces of gold in it, a magicka potion and a book. The book shined slightly when Merlin looked at it and he knew that this was where the feeling was coming from. He rattled the door to the cage but it was locked. He was at a loss what to do. He needed that book. It was something really important he could tell. He glanced around the room before his eyes landed on the knapsack. He had to contain himself from running over there. As it was, he stumbled over a rise in the ground that he didn't see.

He wrenched open the knapsack and peered inside. A book and a few thin pieces of metal were inside. As he was searching he heard the drawling voice.

"Sure, why don't you just take all of my things."

Merlin didn't even acknowledge him. He tortured people for a living. He was still inspecting the pieces.

"They're lockpicks. You can try it on that cage if you'd like," supplied Lokir.

Merlin didn't care about the invitation, or the fact that it came from a man who had no right to say if he picked a lock or not. He walked back over to the cage and crouched down to the lock.

He stuck the pick in and the straight rod that was with it. He realized that he had no clue what he was doing.

"You jiggle the shaped piece of metal until it clicks in. Then you use the rod to move the lock in a half circle. It's pretty simple. But if you get it in the wrong spot and force it, the picks will snap in half," said Lokir coming to the rescue again.

Merlin soaked in this info and set to work. He stuck the pieces in the lock again, doing as Lokir instructed. He moved the bent piece around. It gave and he turned the rod. The tension he felt was unbearable. If he broke this, he only had four more tries. Finally, the lock turned halfway and the gate swung open. Merlin felt a sense of pride and accomplishment for picking his first lock successfully. Wait, was that right?

He moved into the small cage and got a better look at the man who was dead. He was a bosmer, a wood elf. He had these robes on, which Merlin could feel had something more to them.

He picked up the gold pieces and the potion before the book. He was still hesitant. He gingerly put his hand on the cover. He felt that tingly feeling was going to make him explode from the inside, but it was really anti climatic, so he stood up with the book in hand and walked out of the cage, not wanting to smell the corpse any longer.

He turned the book over in his hands and examined it. It had a fine golden edging and a picture of a hand that looked to be on fire right in the middle of the cover. Other than that it was made of old worn leather. Deciding it was alright, he opened the book.

The pages were old and had strange words and diagrams on them. But that was all he got a glimpse of because then images flooded his brain.

Images of his left hand filled with lightning. He felt a deep understanding fill his mind. Another image of him with a staff that shot out lightning, with him yelling "astrice!" He suddenly knew that he could do the spell effortlessly. It would do damage. Along with doing physical damage, it would drain the life force of anyone it touched. It was a nasty spell and he didn't want to use it. The book crumbled to dust as the images faded and he was brought back to the torturer's room. Lokir was staring him in the face asking if he was alright.

"Yeah. I'm fine," he said, grabbing his head. "Just a little dizzy. What was that?"

"That was a spell tomb." said the torturer in a snotty voice. "You just learned a spell."

Lokir got all excited. "Really? I've never been able to do it! How does it feel? Which spell was it?"

"Only those with great skill can learn to manipulate their life force into magicka," said the torturer.

"It was a... Sparks spell. It feels weird. I don't want to use it. Do you have another spell tomb?" Asked Merlin of the torturer.

"No," the man scoffed. "They cost a fortune. I already know the spell, that's why I let you have it."

"You said that you couldn't remember your past. And yet you have this ability. Maybe you already know some spells?" said Hadvar.

Merlin closed his eyes and searched himself. Trying to think or feel for anything remotely close to the feeling the sparks spell gave him. There was a couple of 'pockets' so to speak.

One was burning. He could feel the heat in his mind. He saw an image of his with his left hand outstretched and flames shooting out of it. So...flames. Cool.

Another was pure and warm. Not burning like the flames, but gentle warm. Like being around a fire. He saw the image of himself again, this time his left hand glowing with a soft golden light. He raised his hand and gave it a light flick, and the glow swirled around and down his body, bathing him in the light. He felt warm all over and rejuvenated. So, he figured, it was a healing spell. Healing is what he'll call it.

The last one was one he didn't like. It felt...angry. Unbridled. Loose. It was fury contained in a ball. Yeah, Fury was a good name. He saw himself shooting a swirling light out of his hand and hitting one in a crowd. The person who was hit then proceeded to unsheathe their weapon and hit another person. A riot then broke out. He could tell that it would wear off eventually and it wouldn't even work on people with stronger wills.

He must have spaced out because all he saw was Lokir's and Hadvar's faces. They were asking if he was fine and what was happening.

"I'm fine you guys. Its all right. I know more spells!" he said with a grin.

Lokir's face split open with a huge grin and even Hadvar's face had a lopsided smirk on it.

"Well you can tell us later. We need to get going. We have waited long enough," commanded Hadvar.

They all went to the door with the exception of the torturer, who didn't want to leave his precious work. Merlin called up the flames spell to his left hand, and kept his sword out in his right. Flames danced in his palm, flickering, but not burning him. Lokir flashed him a smile.

They continued down halls like the ones previous. This portion was obviously the jail or dungeons. There was cells lining the walls, thankfully all empty. They took a left and ended up in another torture chamber, luckily this one was empty of living people and all tortured were out their misery.

There was a second room off to the side that was empty. A large hole had been made through the wall, and the nice bricks it was made out of. It was just big enough to let a fully grown man through.

The four men hardly hesitated at all and delved into the opening into a cave. The hall was not like the previous ones. This was obviously mined, Merlin could tell by the rough, jagged edges of the rock walls. It was uneven, and they had to watch thier step because it was easy for them to trip over the uneven ground. Especially for Merlin, but he wouldn't admit it in front of the men.

The hall had fires lit in raised stone pits every few paces, which cast lots of shadows over the rocks.

It was long. The tension rose with every step. They had been walking for quite a few minutes, and there was no sighting of a Stormcloak. An uncomfortable silence settled on them.

"Well," said Hadvar. "This is awkward."

Merlin chuckled. That is just like him, he thought fondly. Wait, why did he think that? He has only knew the man for an hour or so.

"Shh!" hissed the assistant. "Do you hear that?"

They all paused and listened. There was the faint sounds of water rushing and footsteps. Merlin could tell it was coming from a large space because all of the sounds were loud and echoing down the hall. There was someone in the next room.

They all crouched and sneaked to the doorway. The three larger men all gave a yell and charged into the room. Merlin was left crouching alone. He gave a sigh as he heard the sounds of blades clashing.

"Nords," he scoffed.

He ran into the room and looked around the place was indeed big, complete with a waterfall and a creek in it. A bridge spanned right in front of the waterfall. There was a lower level, and that was where the assistant and his enemy were fighting. Hadvar and Lokir were fighting on the first platform. Merlin was looking for a opening to help his friends, but the fighting was intense. Suddenly an arrow whizzed over his head.

He looked around for the archers. On the other side of the room there was two of them shooting arrows into the fray.

Merlin ran over the bridge to them, getting their attention. They both aimed at him. He dodged them at the last moment, flailing his arms and nearly falling over. He hid behind a pillar to get out of their line of sight.

He stood there pressed against the stone racking his brain. What was he going to do?

He slowly moved his head to look if they were still aiming at him. The man and woman were still standing with an arrow cocked each, ready to let it lose. He had to hide again to avoid the arrows. One glanced off the side of the pillar, and the other hit the waterfall on the other side of the room.

But in that small glance Merlin saw something that could save his life. There was a large puddle of oil on the floor making it shine. And both Stormcloaks were standing in it. He called the flames to his left hand. He stared at its beauty for a few moments. It sent a thrall through his arm all the way to his heart. He took a deep breath...and stuck his arm out. He called power to his hand and could feel it flow to his arm from his middle and tingle the whole way. It reached his hand and sent fuel to the flames at his hand, and they came roaring out. It hit the oil and Merlin could hear a sizzle and pop. He pulled his arm back and turned away before it exploded. It lit all at once and burned hot and quick. The flames were all extinguished within 15 seconds. He gingerly came out from his hiding spot. The two Stormcloaks were lying dead where the pool had just been.

Merlin let out a whoop of excitement. He did it! Lokir was done with his fight and raised a brow but didn't say anything. Merlin just flashed him a large grin.

Merlin walked over to the bodies and searched them. Each had a few gold coins, and arrows, which he took. The guy also had two health potions on him. He compared the condition of the bows, deciding in the woman's because it was less scratched and charred. Merlin swung it around his back and turned to see how the other were doing. Hadvar finished off his foe with a quick slice to the stomach and the assistant was already done. Merlin didn't think he'd last long either with that axe.

They joined together and started down the hall.

"Hey you," said the assistant. "Nice move there. Very clever. Job well done."

"That was pretty sweet," said Lokir.

"Thanks guys," said Merlin blushing.

They all turned to Hadvar expecting him to say something. They had reached another gate and he was pulling the chain. He pulled it and the loud clicking could be heard. The gate jerked up, pulling some dust down with it. Hadvar turned with a smirk on his face. "You'll have to do better than that to impress me. That was so so."

They all laughed and walked on the bridge, Hadvar in front, followed by Lokir, Merlin and the Assistant.

Merlin had just stepped off the wooden bridge, when there was a huge roar and very earth seemed to shake. The ceiling behind them crumbled and fell.

The dust settled and Merlin looked around to make sure everyone was alright. He only counted two other heads. Where was the assistant?

Lokir answered his unasked question. "He was a few paces behind you. He had stopped to pick up something. He's alright."

"He'll find another way out. These caves are very expansive," said Hadvar. "We must keep going. That dragons obviously not going to give up."

They continued down the hall, even though it went against Merlin's gut to do so. There was a small room were they met the creek again. The only way to go was to follow the creek, actually walking in it.

"Agh! I don't want to get my bots wet!" protested Lokir.

"Okay, you can stay here as the place falls on your head. Your choice," replied Hadvar calmly.

Merlin snorted as Lokir rushed ahead and led the way for them both.

They followed the creek for a few paces before it disappeared into a crack at the bottom of a dead end. They took a right and had to pause as Lokir looted a skeleton and pocketed some gold. They took another left and the hall opened io a large cavern.

The creek was back and there was no convent fires lit in this place. However there was some glowing mushrooms that gave off light. They made Merlin curious so he picked a few and shoved them in his knapsack. They crossed a little stone bridge before Hadvar crouched and hissed, "Get down!"

They all dropped into crouches.

"There's a bear ahead. I'd prefer not to tangle with her right now, but I'll make it your call. Here's a bow if you need it," said Hadvar, holding out a bow. Merlin took a quick peek, but couldn't see very well because of the rock in the way.

Merlin shook his head, pushing back his offering hand. "I already have one. Thanks though. I think we'll just sneak around."

Merlin took the lead and skirted around the bear. Now that they weren't hiding behind a column, he could see it. It was a very large bear resting in a little alcove. Hadvar was right, it wasn't wise to mess with her.

Merlin was walking slowly, but the tension was rising, making his heart beat faster, and ordering his legs to move with more speed.

"Steady now," warned Hadvar.

Merlin took a deep breath and glanced back at the bear. It had stirred, but was settling back into a deep sleep. They had avoided detection, and Merlin get a sense of accomplishment wash over him. He now knew to keep calm while sneaking.

They reached the end of the cavern. The air was much colder here and Merlin was glad he had this thick leather armor on and not those rags he had on. They followed the passage that gently sloped upward. They rounded a corner, and saw an opening. It had sunlight shining in and the wind blowing small billows of snow in the mouth of the cave. Merlin was so relived to find the end of the tunnel that he took the last few paces at a run.

It wasn't too smart in hindsight because the sudden brightness nearly blinded him. He groaned and covered his eyes, ducking his head. He cracked open his eyes slowly before opening them completely. Blinking them a few times, he turned to see if his companions had followed him out. They we're standing near the mouth of the opening, leaning on the rock and laughing at his inexperience.

"You-!" he threatened. "You could have told me!"

"Well, now you know not to do it ever again. Never run out of a cave into sunlight. Got to go slow to give your eyes time to adjust," said Hadvar smirking.

Lokir opened his mouth to say something also. They heard a mighty roar and ducked just to have the dragon swoop low over their heads, rattling the ground. They stayed low until he was just a speck in the horizon.

"Okay, I think he's gone. Finally. Now where?" asked Lokir.

"I need to go report to the imperials. Riverwood is on the way. My Uncle is the blacksmith there. He'll give us food and shelter. Please I insist," said Hadvar.

Lokir and Merlin exchanged glances.

"Alright," said Merlin. "We'll come with you. Then we'll decide where to go from there. Thanks."

So the three set out for Riverwood.

So, explanations.

Merlin is a High Elf, or Altmer. Makes sense. Colin Morgan does have some nice cheekbones...

Anyway, high elves do have that +50 increase of magicka, but for Merlin I doubled that. He is Emrys. 'Nuff said

High elves also have the highborn magicka, that special racial power that they can use once a day to increase magicka regeneration by 10% for 60 seconds. Well, I decided Merlin has it all day, every day.

I have decided all of his starting skills and the explanations as to why I put him at that level but you'll have to go to my bio for it.

If you want an update on his advances each chapter just leave a review or pm me.

Also, if you have a storyline you really want to see Merlin do, just leave a review. I already have ideas for civil war, main, mages, and dark brotherhood.

Also, do you want him to meet up with Arthur right away, or a little bit later on? It really doesn't matter for me.

-Ebony


	5. Chapter 5- Before the Storm part 1

Hello! I meant to update this on monday, but I took a little vacation to Universal Studios Orlando. I was on like, a week long euphoric high from the Wizarding World of Harry Potter! OMG! Amazing!

Anyway, as per usual, I don't own Merlin or Elder Scrolls: Skyrim. Oh and on a side note, if you've never seen Sherlock, TRY IT! I got hooked!

Gwaine is Hadvar and Will is Lokir and Merlin is well, Merlin. There's another that pops up this chapter. Enjoy!

Chapter 5 Before the Storm part 1  
They started their journey towards Riverwood with Lokir and Hadvar taking the lead. They set off down the road, which was just a cobblestone path through the woods. Merlin assumed that they were going in the right direction. Lokir and Hadvar still remembered their lives.  
He pulled out his map to familiarize himself with the landscape and the paper. An arrow was pointing to the top of the map, pointing right towards a house on the map. It wasn't like the marker for Helgen, which was bright and lit up. It was a dull grey like the hold capitals, but much smaller. He assumed this meant he hadn't been there yet. Still, he wondered why it was even there. He hadn't been there, so why would it pop up?  
"Hey Lokir!" he called. Lokir glanced back from where he had been walking a few paces ahead with Hadvar and then stopped to let Merlin catch up with him.  
"What do you need?" he asked when they were going the same speed.  
"I've never been to Riverwood, so why is it showing up?"  
"Because the map is well…basically alive. It wants to serve you so it helps you in any way it can. This is also why it doesn't take your own magicka to fast travel. It has its own store of energy and will always be with you."  
"So I can never get rid of it?"  
"Unless you die."  
"Well, good thing I don't plan on doing that anytime soon," said Merlin. "So it listens into my conversations and makes a mark where someone says?"  
Hadvar had slowed up and joined the conversation. "Yeah something like that. Any more specific and you'll have to go to the college of Winterhold. It really is a pretty special map. Those are rare."  
In response, the map vibrated slightly and another icon appeared on it, this time up in the far right upper corner. An image of a little castle with the caption of "College of Winterhold" next to it was next to the hold capital of Winterhold. There was a shining light from the back of the map. Merlin turned it over to see that words had been written on the back. There were two headings under 'tasks'. One said "travel to Riverwood", and the other said "Visit the College of Winterhold". Huh, Handy, thought Merlin.  
"Do either of you have one of these?" asked Merlin.  
"I don't know about Lokir, but I've traveled these roads a long time, looking for things to keep me busy. Don't really need one," said Hadvar.  
"Yeah. A thief can't stay in one place for too long. They notice when you cause trouble," replied Lokir.  
"Ok, well I never resorted to being a thief. The legion is where I need to be," said Hadvar.  
Merlin snorted, folding and putting the map in his pocket He didn't understand what was so funny, but for some reason it was.  
"Well if you find it so funny," said Hadvar in a fake offended tone, "You should join. You too Lokir." Right on time, the map vibrated in his pocket. Merlin assumed that it had put another task on the back, so he didn't even bother with bringing it out of his pocket. "I have great faith in General Tullius. He will make sure that we win the war."  
They walked on for a few moments before cresting a hill in the path. They were on the top of a valley, and the view was stunning, breathtaking. A river ran below and opposite them was a mountain. It was covered in snow, which was in contrast to the woods around them. It was shrouded in a bit of fog, obscuring a large crumbling ruin partially. It had great spires and was built into the side of the mountain. Just looking at it made Merlin shiver a bit.  
"Bleak Falls Barrow," said Hadvar. "I grew up here and the place used to give me nightmares as a child. Envisioning the Dragur crawling out of their tombs and coming down the mountains-" Hadvar broke off and shivered. "Still does in fact."  
They started down the path again, this time winding down a sharp descent. The road zigged and zagged back and forth. It was getting tiring.  
"You know what? Let's make this interesting!" said Hadvar, who proceeded to step off the path and dive into the woods. Merlin and Lokir froze in shock then Lokir gave a shrug of his shoulders and went after him. Merlin rolled his eyes and followed too. They jogged in the forest, dodging trees, leaping over logs and jumping over boulders. Merlin and Lokir caught up to Hadvar easily, on account of his heavy armor. They raced for a little, and Merlin started gaining on the other two. He was starting to get a feeling like he was back in the keep. Merlin recognized it as magic. He could sense something was near that had great power. The feeling grew slowly giving him an extra boost of strength, making him run a bit faster than the other two. It also helped that he had on only some leather and not some heavy steel armor.  
They were having so much fun, that they didn't realize where they ended up.  
Merlin was looking behind him to see how far behind the others were when he stopped, and not of his own accord. He ran into something, something very hard, painful and apparently immobile. Merlin bounced off of it and landed hard on his back on the ground. The wind got knocked out of him, and he was ignorant as to what was happening around him for a few moments.  
A gruff voice called out above him, "Hey! What do you think you're doing?"  
Merlin looked up to find he was staring at a very angry Wood Elf, and just by looking at him, he could tell that the man was a Bandit, A thief. He had a hungry, greedy look in his eyes that told Merlin he wanted whatever Merlin had on his body, and didn't care if he made it out alive or not.  
Merlin opened his mouth but found that no sound could come out. At that moment, the Map decided to let him know that he had found someplace new. Thanks needed that, he thought sarcastically. When he didn't respond the man became agitated and said, "Fine, I'll just cut it out of you instead!" He pulled out a steel sword from a scabbard on his hip swung down at Merlin. Merlin could do nothing but flinch and close his eyes.  
A loud clang resonated inches from his face. He cracked open his eye lids to see the bandits sword stopped right above his nose by another much bigger sword. Merlin tilted his head back to look who it was, even though he already knew who the sword belonged to.  
Lokir had blocked the blow to his head, and by his stretched stance and relived expression on his face, Merlin could tell it had been close. Lokir's expression changed to determined. He flung up the blade trying to impale Merlin, causing the bandit to stumble back a bit from the force of the blade. He may not look like it, but Lokir was pretty strong. While the man was trying to catch his balance, Lokir stepped around Merlin and ran him through with his blade. The bandit let out a gasp of pain, and then fell limp, sliding off the blade.  
Merlin scrambled to his feet, dusting himself off and readjusting all of his equipment. Luckily the bow slung across his back didn't snap in half. "Thanks," he said to Lokir.  
Lokir was wiping off his blade with a corner of the Bandit's armor. "No problem," he said. He straightened and looked Merlin in the eyes. "Just repaying a favor."  
They held contact for a moment before Merlin looked around to see where he was. There was a mouth to a cave to the left and in front of him a few paces. There was a pile of furs in the shape of a bed off to the side and a small fire pit that had little wisps of smoke rising from black coals. Barrels were stacked haphazardly in the entrance of the cave, some broken open. Merlin pulled out his map to see what this place was called. Unfolding it, the little arrow marking where he was gave a pulse of light, as if saying, I'm right here! The arrow had a little white symbol next to it, showing that he had found the location. It was a pickaxe and a hammer crossing at the handles, and 'Embershard Mine' was next to it. Merlin folded it back up carefully and put it into the small breast pocket on his armor.  
Neither of the other two had found anything interesting on his body, so Merlin took a peek. There was his sword lying on the ground next to him, but it was useless to Merlin; he already had one. Same with the little Iron dagger in his belt. He didn't have any potions or gold on him, only his armor. Merlin inspected it. It was made of fur, with spots of iron imbedded into the tough skin. "Studded Armor" was the name that came up to his lips from somewhere in his mind. The little glimpses of knowledge were really frustrating Merlin, but he figured he couldn't complain. At least he still remembered some things.  
He thought about taking the armor, but decided against it. It was just as good as the leather armor he was wearing now and the Studded Armor weighed more, and would just slow him down.  
He stood and followed Hadvar, who had started to walk down a rugged path. Lokir brought up the rear.  
As they were walking, Merlin could go back to focusing on the feeling of magic nearby. He decided that it was to the left of him, a little ways away. He didn't say anything to Lokir or Hadvar yet.  
They came upon the main road. Right on the other side of the Road running next to it was a river. They could go either left or right. Hadvar barely stopped, only glancing to see if anyone was coming, and turned right. Merlin stopped panicking, and he felt a bump on his back from Lokir trying to avoid colliding into him.  
Hadvar stopped and turned around. "Merlin, what's wrong?" he asked. "That way," he said raising his left arm, pointing. "I need to go that way." He figured he probably wasn't making any sense, but he knew he needed to go find out was bothering him so much.  
Hadvar looked at Merlin with a confused expression. "Um, Riverwood is this way," he said pointing behind him down the right path. "That's in the complete opposite direction and we need to get to my uncles to warn him."  
"I have a weird feeling. I had the same feeling when I found that Spell Tome. I don't know why, but I will never be able to rest until I find out what it is. It will always be a 'what if'. You guys can go ahead. I'll find out whatever it is and catch-up later." With that he spun on his heel and started down the left path.  
He smiled as he heard hurried footsteps next to him. Hadvar came up on his right, and a moment later Lokir caught up on Merlin's left.  
"I worked hard to keep you alive. I'm not going to have you go and screw it all up now," said Hadvar.  
"Yeah," agreed Lokir.  
"We got this far, we'll finish this quest together. Never leave a man behind."  
Merlin felt touched that they came with him. It was probably nothing, but it would always be lagging in the back of his mind if he didn't check it out.  
"So, what does this...Magic...thing feel like? I've always wondered," said Lokir breaking the silence.  
Merlin tilted his head, thinking. How did it feel?  
"It feels like... there's a pit in me right between my heart and stomach. It's filled with a wonderful warm energy. It tenses up my chest and makes everything tingle when I do magic. And then to release it, I call it up and let it flow out of my hands. It's amazing."  
Lokir had an envious look on his face. "That would be such an awesome way to cause some mischief," he said wistfully. At that moment, Merlin was very glad that he couldn't use Magic.  
The magic was getting stronger now. Up ahead, Merlin could see the road ending and twisting off to the Left. On the turn were these things sticking up. Merlin quickened his pace to get there faster. He hardly even noticed his Map vibrate.  
Once Merlin got there, he was confused.  
There were three tall round stones upright spaced out evenly on this stone platform. There were roots growing over it and little plants trying to grow out from in-between the stones. Standing in the middle of the Platform, Merlin checked it more thoroughly.  
There was one stone in front of him and one on either side. Now that he was up closer, he could see the detailing on them. A steel band encompassed them around the middle and a strip of the metal also went from one side of the base, up to the top and back down also. There was a hole in the middle which Merlin could easily fit his fist through. Each had a marking on it. The one to his left had a picture of a thief on it, running from something with a bag of gold under one arm and the other hand holding a dagger. There was lines running through it and points connecting the lines; a constellation.  
The one in front of him had a constellation of an old man in robes. His arms were outstretched, one holding a staff aloft. Merlin could tell that it was Wizard, Sorcerer, or Mage.  
The stone to his right had a constellation that was rather different then the other two. It was a man in large ornate battle armor, complete with a large helmet that had two large horns coming out from the sides. In one hand was a shield that covered his massive torso and in the other was a giant battle axe. Merlin could sense the Magic in them and realized they sped up things. They helped along your mental capabilities in learning certain things. Thief in well, thieving skills, Warrior in fighting skills and mage in Magic.  
He turned to Hadvar and Lokir behind him. They were on the path, looking at him uncertainly.  
"What are they?" he asked.  
"They're called Standing Stones. They are said to have given the Warriors of old great gifts and special powers. They don't get used much anymore, as you can tell. It takes a lot to use one of these," said Hadvar.  
"Yeah, no one knows really where they came from, just that they have deep roots to the stars and Magic. It's like babysitting a little four year old with you. What's this? Why does it do that? why do you have one?" complained Lokir. Are these what you were sensing?" he asked.  
Ignoring his previos comment Merlin gave a nod. "So, no one uses these? Does anyone know what they do?"  
Hadvar shrugged. "If anyone does, they are at the college or an expert in lore. I'm certainly not. My youth wasn't about learning."  
"What was it about then?" asked Lokir cheekily.  
"Let's just say that I've had to pull quite a few strings to be let back into any of the bars or Taverns in Skyrim."  
Lokir and Merlin both burst out laughing. Hadvar turned red, and grinned. Merlin couldn't imagine Hadvar, the faithful Imperial doing anything wrong. Yet at the same time, it confused him, because deep down he expected that answer.  
"Alright, Alright, that's enough. We need to get going," Hadvar said, trying to be heard over Merlin and Lokir's synchronized laughs. Hadvar turned to leave and Lokir followed, holding his side and wiping his eyes.  
Merlin sobered up and called out, "Hey wait! I just want to try something quick."  
Hadvar sighed. "Merlin, hurry up. I need to speak with my Uncle."  
Merlin turned to the stones and stood still for a moment, debating. He didn't know if it would work. He walked over to the stone and laid his hand on the front and took a deep breath.  
He felt the Stone shift slightly. It warmed up and Merlin could feel a presence enter his mind and poke around, opening up connections and filling him with strength. He didn't know how long he was connected to the stone, but it was an exhilarating experience. He opened his eyes and took a shaky step backwards. He looked at the stone again and saw that the middle was alight and a beam of light shot from the top straight up into the sky. He stared at it in wonder before looking at Hadvar and Lokir. They were staring at him in awe.  
"Do you guys see that?" asked Merlin, pointing to the beam of light.  
Their faces shifted to show confusion. "There isn't anything there. You kind of...um..." Lokir trailed off.  
"Glowing," finished Hadvar.  
"Yeah I guess you could say that. I was trying to find another word for it. One manlier."  
"No, No, No, there's a beam of light reaching up to the sky from the stone. And, and, the thing is alive! It's helping me be better. It's...exhilarating," said Merlin in a great rush.  
"What is it helping you do?" asked Lokir.  
"Be a better Warrior," explained Merlin. "It made new pathways in my mind and is going to help me learn better, so I can catch onto things faster."  
"That's amazing!" exclaimed Hadvar.  
"I know!" said Merlin excitedly and with a huge grin on his face.  
"You're a riddle Merlin," said Hadvar with a small smirk.  
Merlin smiled and instantly felt a twinge at the back of his brain. It hurt, but not enough to make him cry out, just shift slightly with an unpleasant expression on his face. Why does this keep happening?  
"Come on, let's get going," said Hadvar.  
They walked down the road, making progress once again to their destination. They had just walked past the road to the when Merlin heard a growling sound.  
He turned to see two black wolves running down the road at them, and another pop out of a bush on the side of the path.  
"Wolves behind us!" he cried to his companions.  
All three of them drew their weapons, and in Merlin's case, called up the flames to his left hand at the same time and readied themselves.  
The wolves split off when they got within attacking range, each of them picking a different person.  
The middle one went for Merlin, who slashed upwards at the creatures face when it was close enough. It backed off at the last second and got a little slice on the nose. It gave a slight whimper, and seemed angrier. Merlin paused for a split second, trying to figure how on earth to fight a Wolf with a sword. He didn't really have the mass for stabbing it outright, and it's nearly impossible to out maneuver it.  
His planning attempts went out the window when t charged again and Merlin was not prepared. He jumped out of the way, but he couldn't get out of the reach of the animal's massive claws. He let out a loud hiss when his left arm was sliced open.  
Frustrated, he called up the flames to his left hand and let the magic flow through to the ball, lighting the wolf of fire. It gave a small squeal before falling on its side. Merlin suddenly felt more confident in himself.  
Hadvar and Lokir were already done with their fights.  
"Why is it so much harder to fight these things than actual people?" asked Merlin.  
"Because they are harder to predict. You can tell what a human is going to do by his body and expressions, but animal is harder to read," supplied Lokir, sounding uncharacteristically wise.  
Merlin nodded, storing away that information mentally. He glanced at his arm, seeing the blood trickle down it. It wasn't life threatening by any means, but it was enough to worry for infection and all that. He didn't have anything to make a bandage out of though.  
"Do you have those potions still?" asked Hadvar.  
"Yeah," said Merlin. "I don't know how to use them."  
"That's right! You don't remember anything," said Hadvar. "Each potion has a use, and everyone uses them differently. Personally, I never use the Magicka potion, seeing as I don't use any. Most I think you just drink it. I use stamina quite a bit. After a particularly hard duel I'll drink it and it just gives you a boost of energy. The health one can be taken many ways. If I get hurt with a little slice like you are now, I'll pour most of the bottle on the actual wound, and then drink the rest. It heals the skin more to stop the bleeding and the portion you drink replenishes the blood that you lost. For large wounds, it's better to use a stronger potion, but for these minor healing ones, the little scratch that you have will be perfect."  
Merlin rustled through his bag and grabbed the little red bottle. Un-corking it, he poured a little dribble on the slices and watched in amazement as they shrank a bit. He quickly poured on more, sighing in relief as the pain went away. When there was just a little bit left, Merlin drank it, savoring the warmth as it ran down his throat.  
Lokir sniggered. "I think Merlin's in love with a potion."  
"Shut-up Lokir."

They made it to Riverwood without any more delays. It was a small place, with a mill to the left and a wall in the front entrance of the town and two guards guarding it. There wasn't a wall encompassing it, just three over the entrances. Not nearly as fortified as Helgen. Merlin despaired. They were so close to Helgen, and if the dragon came here, it wouldn't stand a chance.  
They walked through the opening without being stopped, and Merlin felt the map vibrate in response.  
There was a house off to the immediate right, almost touching the wall, and there was another next to it. On the left, there was a small gap between the wall and the next building, which was obviously a blacksmith. The forge and other equipment were in a covered porch area connected to a house. Merlin assumed that this was the uncle that Hadvar wanted to talk to so badly.  
There were a few more buildings that Merlin saw once they traveled farther into the town, one of which was an inn, named 'The Sleeping Giant Inn'. It occurred to Merlin only then how tired he was. Fighting for your life was exhasting.  
They didn't get very far before Hadvar turned and greeted the blacksmith, walking up to the forge.  
The man was large and muscled, with a large warhammer slung across his back. Merlin could see the family resemblance. Then again, all Nords look like they are related. He was sitting on a small grindstone, pushing down the pedal to spin the stone at just the right pace with a practiced motion. Merlin could tell that this man was a master at his work. He was sharpening a simple Steel Sword. He stopped when he heard the three men approach.  
"Hadvar! Good to see you boy!" the man boomed. "Why are you here? Are you on leave from-" He stopped as he got a good look at them. "Shor's Bones, What happened to you boy?"  
Merlin was slightly offended, until he looked at himself and the other two. All three of them looked tired and ragged, splattered in blood and dirt smeared. Merlin would react the same way if he had three men turn up like this on his doorstep too.  
"Shh, please keep your voice down Uncle Alvor. I'm fine, but we should go inside to talk," said Hadvar placidly.  
"What's going on and who are these people?" Alvor said even louder.  
"They are friends. Saved my life in fact. I'll explain everything but we need to get inside," Hadvar replied sternly.  
Alvor calmed down. "Okay, Okay, come inside then. Sigrid will get you something to eat and you can tell me all about it."  
Alvor turned and led the way for them to enter into his wooden house.

They opened the door and got in as quickly as possible, closing t behind them. The house was one large open rectangular room. On the opposite wall of the door was a large fire pit that was going. There was a kettle resting in a spit over it. To the right of the fire pit was a large bed with a small table and dresser next to it. On the other wall next to the door was a smaller bed that had a little girl sitting on it.  
On the left side of the room was a railing next to the wall for some stairs that went under the floor, presumably to a basement. In front of the railing was a table that had dishes and random pieces of food.  
"Sigrid! We have company!" Alvor called.  
Footsteps sounded from the stairs and a woman came up from the basement.  
She was rather pretty, but had a stern look on her face. Once she saw the three of them however, it melted and she turned into a doting mother. Merlin could tell that she cared deeply for her family.  
"Hadvar, we have been so worried! Sit, and we can get you three something to eat," she said, moving over to the fire. "What are you two's names?"  
"I'm Merlin," he said, raising a hand.  
"Lokir," the man said in question meekly. Merlin supposed he was intimidated by being in the presence of such a beautiful woman and her husband.  
They all sat and Sigrid dished out stew to each of them and tore a leaf of bread into equal pieces. Once it was set in front of him, Merlin didn't realize he was that hungry. He started greedily slurping down the soup. Lokir was doing the same.  
The rest of the room's occupants looked on in shock, so Merlin slowed down a little.  
"Now, what's the big mystery?" asked Alvor. "Why did you come here looking like you lost an argument with a cave bear?"  
Hadvar put down his spoon. "Don't know where to start," he said slowly. "I was assigned to General Tullius's guard and we stopped in Helgen where we were-" He broke off uncertainly, obviously not wanting to say the next part. Merlin was glad it was him who was doing the speaking. "Attacked by a dragon," he finished.  
"It's true," supplied Merlin. "All of us were there."  
"Why were you there?" asked Alvor.  
"Um, we were prisoners sir," said Merlin slowly.  
"What did you do?"  
"I stole a horse trying to get over the border. I was panicking, not thinking straight," said Lokir. Alvor seemed to accept this. He turned to Merlin, waiting for an explanation.  
"Um," Merlin faltered. "I really don't remember anything about my life before this morning. Only little things, and even those make my head hurt. So, I have no clue what I did."  
Hadvar and Lokir looked just as surprised as Alvor and Sigrid.  
"Still, are you sure you all aren't drunk? A dragon...that's impossible!" exclaimed Alvor.  
"Husband, let him tell his story," reprimanded Sigrid.  
"Not much else to tell. This dragon flew overhead and caused mass confusion and panic. Wrecked Helgen. Don't know if anyone else is alive. I probably wouldn't be here if not for my friends. I need to go to solitude and report in," Hadvar said. "Could help us out? Food, supplies, a place to stay?"  
"Of course," said Alvor with no hesitation. "Friends of Hadvar are friends of mine. Criminals or not. Glad to help however I can."  
Alvor stopped and thought for a moment. "However, there is something I must ask of you, Merlin. And you too Lokir."  
"Of course," Merlin replied.  
"Word needs to be brought to the Jarl. Riverwood is too close to Helgen and in the perfect spot for the dragon to attack. Could you go to him and ask for protection?"  
Merlin thought about it. He really didn't know who he was or where to go. He didn't even think he had a place to stay. It would be nice to figure those things out, but Merlin didn't even know remotely where to start. His only other option is joining the Imperials with Hadvar. Riverwood needed him more.  
"I'll go to Whiterun for you."  
Alvor nodded and looked to Lokir. Lokir shifted uneasily in his seat and had a sheepish look on his face.  
"Sorry, but I must return to my family in Rorikstead. Coming so close to death made me realize what they are to me: important."  
Alvor nodded with a smile on his face. "I can respect that."  
Merlin nodded to Lokir. He had a family and a life. He needed to go to that. The only reason why Merlin was doing this was because he had no clue if there was anyone who cared about him in this place.  
Merlin was getting tired though. Finishing off his soup, he stood-up. Lokir stood also, both making their way to the door.  
"Where are you going?" asked Sigrid.  
"I'm going to the inn down the road. I saw that there was one there," said Merlin.  
"Yeah, me too," said Lokir.  
Sigrid looked affronted. "No, you don't have to pay for a room, you can just stay here!"  
Merlin shook his head. "No, I won't impose on you any longer. Besides, you only have two beds, one is for your daughter, and the other is for you. Hadvar is probably going to take yours, which leaves you to sleep on anything else. I don't want to be a burden. I'm truly grateful for the food. It was delicious and made me realize how hungry I was. And you have family over. Hadvar will want to brag about the adventures he's had to his Uncle. I'll be seeing him soon."  
"Hey!" came the indignant cry from said man. "Wait, does this mean you'll join the legion?"  
Merlin gave a small smile in reply.  
Sigrid was about to reply before she stopped. "Fine. But at least take some food. It's the least we can do; for all that you did and are doing for us."  
Merlin decided that this was best. He already felt bad for slightly insulting them. "I'd love to."  
She nodded in approval and went about wrapping up some bread and meat.  
"I'm sorry I won't be able to help you in Whiterun, but I have a duty to the legion. I hope to see you there soon," Hadvar said.  
"Yeah. I have nowhere else to go, so I figured that once I'm done with this errand, I'll travel up to Solitude," Merlin promised.  
Then Sigrid came up with two bundles, one for Merlin one for Lokir.  
Alvor stood up and said, "Save travels to both of you. I can't thank you enough for what you are doing for this town. You need anything, come back, both of you. You'll always be welcome here."  
Merlin gave a wave and a simple, "Thank you" and went out the door. Lokir was close behind him after saying good bye.  
They walked down the road, watching the sun sink over the mountains.  
The place was called the 'Sleeping Giant Inn' and had a sign swinging over the path that had, well, a sleeping giant on it. They walked up the wooden step and opened the door.  
Inside, the place was warm and inviting. Tables were along the walls with chairs spaced every so often. Right in the middle was an open stone pit that had a blazing fire in it. A few were sitting there, talking and enjoying a tankard of Mead. A bard was in the corner singing a song called 'Ragnar the Red' and a particularly drunk man was waving his arms to the song in an offbeat. Doors were off to the sides, and right in between right those was a counter that had a large dark-haired Nord wiping tankards behind it.  
Merlin and Lokir walked up to him. Merlin started, "Hi, um, yeah we would like to rent some-"  
"Ask Delphine for rooms," he grunted.  
"Oh. Okay," said Merlin slowly.  
"She's over there," the big Nord said, pointing to a woman in a Blue cloth and Leather dress. She was wiping down a table, so Merlin couldn't see her face.  
Merlin walked over to her. "I'd like to rent a room."  
She stopped what she was doing and looked at him. Instantly, Merlin had a searing pain rip through his mind. It burned, even worse than when he saw Lokir. Flashes of memories went flashed across his brain, burning into it. One stuck out.

He was in a huge room. It was made of nicely cut stone, and had a warm feeling with large ornate candlesticks spread out for light and different adornments everywhere. . It could only be from a castle. There were a lot of people in the hall; Merlin himself was in the front of the crown standing at the back. In the front were three people, a beautiful woman and two men who were obviously related. In between them and the crowd was a line of five men kneeling. All had full chainmail and a bright red cloak draped over their shoulders. One man, a blonde who was up front was dressed similarly, but held himself much different. He stood tall and straight, and had a proud expression on his face, like he was proud of the men before him. Merlin felt warmth light up in him like he hadn't felt before, not even from Magic. He knew this man, and very closely he could tell. His name was on the tip of his tongue, but it evaded Merlin, frustrating him.

The other man was dressed differently, with dark clothing, but expensive clothing. He had a crown that was solid looking and again, expensive. It had fine detailing that made it look simple, yet powerful. Merlin knew that this man was a king, and something about him made Merlin fearful.  
The woman off to that man's left was dressed in a fine white dress that showed off her curves perfectly. Her complexion was flawless and hair dark and curly. Something about her made Merlin sorrowful, and disappointed, but Merlin had no clue what had happened to make him feel that way.  
The king was going down the line of men with a sword, tapping it lightly on their left shoulder, before tapping it on their right.  
"Arise, Sir Caradoc, Knight of Camelot."  
So it was a knighting ceremony! How did he, Merlin, get into one of these? He must have some higher position in the royal household. But by the itchiness of his clothes, which was very similar to the rags he had on when he was about to be executed, he was not a royal himself. So maybe he served one of them...  
The king had finished with all the men and had a big speech about the responsibility of a Knight. Merlin tuned out most of it, but one thing struck out to him.  
"...You will find no one better who embodies these values than my son, Arthur..." he said, putting a hand on the blonde man.  
Arthur! That was his name. Having his name and face put together in his mind sent shivers down his spine. He needed to find him. He must be in Skyrim somewhere. He'll ask where that was once he got the chance.  
The King's speech ended and there was sounds coming from outside the massive closed doors behind them. Merlin knew exactly what the clanging meant; a sword fight.  
The door burst open and a person clad in solid armor complete with a helmet that concealed all of their face strode in. Something about them seemed familiar to Merlin, like the way they held themselves. All of the new knights drew their swords along with the guards that had been standing vigil in the hall's corners.  
Arthur strode up to them and stopped, as if waiting for something. The warrior wordlessly took off their left gauntlet and threw it at his feet.  
Merlin felt a cold sensation fill him. He knew what that was instinctively. A challenge. They wanted to fight Arthur. He felt a surge of protectiveness, and knew in that moment that if he was in danger in any way he would sacrifice his entire being for him. They were like brothers, Merlin knew, even though he had no memories of him what so ever.  
Arthur bent down to pick it up. Once he straightened, he looked the warrior straight in the eye and said in a commanding tone, "I accept your challenge. It I'm to face you in combat, do me the courtesy of revealing your identity."  
The knight dipped its head ever so forward and lifted two flaps at eh back of the helmet. They dipped their head forward and took of their helmet, throwing back their head and shaking out their hair as they did so.  
Merlin was shocked to see Delphine, looking much different without her dress. She was a hardened warrior. Merlin didn't know what to say and was confused. He became even more confused when he heard her name.  
"My name is Morgause."

Merlin came out of it to see Lokir shaking him slightly.

"Hey, Merlin, you alright?"  
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," he said slowly, looking at Delphine or Morgause or whatever her name was. These memories were becoming very strange, and he figured he was just delirious from lack of sleep. But something about them told him to be weary of this woman. She was dangerous, even if she tries to pass off as harmless.  
"The room will be 10 gold," she said, obviously a little freaked out from his episode there.  
"Thanks," he said, getting out the gold pouch and counting out 10 pieces. "And I'd like to rent another for my friend here," he finished, pointing to Lokir.  
"No, Merlin mate, you don't have to do this," Lokir tried to argue, but Merlin was adamant.  
"Consider this repayment for the bandit next to the mine."  
"Alright," he grumbled. Merlin counted out an extra ten and gave it all to Delphine/Morgause.  
"Thanks. They're yours for the day. Merlin, yours is on the right, you there, yours is on the left. Sleep well." And with that she turned and continued wiping the table and picking up dirty dishes, but not before giving Merlin one last look. But it wasn't like he was crazy, it was more of wonder. Merlin turned to Lokir. "I'd stay up and talk, but I need rest."  
"No arguing there, because I need to get some too." He paused. "Look I just want to say that I'm really grateful you stopped me from trying to run. I would've died. So...Thanks," he said awkwardly.  
"Of course. I try not to let anyone die if I can help it."  
Merlin turned and went to his room, and closed the door. It was simple, with a bed, table wardrobe and a night stand. Merlin thought about the day as he took off his pack and all his weapons. It had been crazy and he doesn't know hardly anything about himself, except that he's a warrior and a type of servant or something. It was all really confusing, but now he had somewhere to go. As he thought about it, he grew more and more sad and for some reason...tired. He knew that Arthur was out there, but he had a sneaking suspicion that it wouldn't be easy to find him. And as he lay in bed with his eyes closing, he knew that he needed him. He was his other half of the Coin. The phrase popped into his mind from somewhere but he liked it.

Well, that marks the end of another chapter. They keep getting longer and longer! I don't know what is happening, but I certainly hope they taper off. I had actually planned to have this one be a little longer, but I figured this was a good place to end it. And I didn't plan to have Morgause there either. I have pretty much everyone planned out, but I was stuck on Morgause and Mordred, but they both came to me this chapter while writing. Literally, like when Merlin says to Delphine, "I'd like to rent a room." Then I thought, what if she was Morgause? And what implications would that have for the main quest? Then I got really excited.  
Well, good thing for Merlin, because he leveled up! He is now at Level Two! It's going to be really subtle, so don't be worried if you missed it.  
-Ebony


End file.
